


if fate decries us doomed, i will extinguish the stars themselves

by V-s (vivific)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Canon Universe, F/F, Nyotalia, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 16:32:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18525343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivific/pseuds/V-s
Summary: Sometimes they wonder if they're star-crossed by their very nature as personifications.





	if fate decries us doomed, i will extinguish the stars themselves

**Author's Note:**

> *dykg voice* Did You Know? I wrote a ton of AmeCan fics circa 2014 but never published/finished them. Anyway here is the like, only present-day Hetalia fic I'll ever write. And probably the only Hetalia fic I'll publish for another four years lol

Amelia doesn't like being a personification. Perhaps she was never meant to be, like all the other countries who don't have representatives. They are no more than trophies, symbols of victory, and puppets to play at unity. She does not resemble the strongest in her government, clear blue eyes contrasting with dark skin, and she is more likely to be mistaken for an intern than the representation of their great country.

And most of all, her duties as a representative keep her from those she loves.

"Beings like us don't love," Rosalind used to tell her. "It never lasts."

But the jaded then-Empire is wrong, Amelia has loved and will always love. Humans may be too ephemeral, but she loves her counterparts in similar ways, and she knows they love her too.

Rosalind is sharp-tongued and sometimes depressingly pessimistic, but at the height of Amelia's rebellion, she stared her in the eyes and recognised something beyond their governments.

Marianne is sickeningly sweet and affectionate, hiding a never dying will to survive, but while their governments collaborate out of spite and opportunity, her kindness shows through fighting one of her own when he whistles at a young Amelia.

They do not love, not the way humans do, but they love all the same.

The small actions of defiance towards their innate status as representatives, moments when they don't align with their bosses and show mercy or love, Amelia loves those times most of all.

But love is maddening, when fate decries it impossible.

History has swept aside the annexation of Madeleine's country as a joke, never to be truly realised in this day and age. It is forgotten, a relic of times past, and their status quo is too comfortable to change. Yet, Amelia remembers fighting not for conquest or freedom, but for Madeleine to be at her side.

There are scars of history over both of their physical bodies, but the ones over their hearts is one of the few they share.

"I wish I could say I was sorry," Madeleine whispers, her cold hands caressing at the discoloured patch of skin slightly to the right of Amelia's chest.

"Revenge is a dish best served hot," Amelia winks, and touches her fingers at the matching scar on Madeleine.

"Do you think Rosalind would have really given me up to you?" Madeleine asks.

Violet meets blue.

Amelia smiles, and pulls her in for a hug. Madeleine's body is cold in many places, but so is she.

"It doesn't matter," says Amelia, pressing their lips together. "We're here now."

Their foreheads touch. They contrast in every way, yet complement.

Trophies love too, enough to step off their pedestals and into the unknown.

"You're not serious," Madeleine's boss says, staring at the representative of his country.

"There are precedents," Madeleine says, and her tone leaves no room for argument. "Some representatives give up on what they represent and are reborn as humans."

"And what happens to their country? Their people?" Madeleine's boss jaw tenses. "Are you replaced?"

"No," Madeleine answers calmly. "Our status does not decide the fates of our people. If that were the case, I wouldn't be making this choice."

Madeleine's boss' eyes turn to Amelia. She stands tall and unfazed.

"And your boss approves of this?"

"My boss hardly acknowledges my existence these days," Amelia chuckles drily. "He doesn't think much of a 'stupid girl' like me."

"And if he were to disapprove of this course of action?"

Cold fingers link with warmer ones.

"We don't care," Madeleine intones. "It won't be our responsibility anymore."

Madeleine's boss does not approve.

Neither does Rosalind.

"Are you out of your minds?!" Her accent sinks hard into Received Pronunciation, as she stalks around the living room. "Do you know what backlash you'll cause from stepping down?"

Seeing Rosalind in such a fury, regarding the both of them like they're misbehaving children, brings a juvenile joy to Amelia's burnt heart. Some nations view her and Marianne as their parents, but Amelia likes to think them as annoying older sisters too.

"It's not like we'll be announcing it," Madeleine is eternally calm. She knows Rosalind's tangents well. "We won't crash the stock market or anything. We haven't been in the public eye for some time. We will simply disappear completely and quietly."

"And when people realise their country's representatives have abandoned their people?" Rosalind demands. "It is your natural duty, Madeleine! How could you turn your back on those you are to represent?"

Madeleine's eyes close. Amelia stands.

"That's not our problem," she says, her voice cool and at ease. With anyone else, she can raise her voice and fight back, but Rosalind is a special case. "Countries thrive without representatives, and like Maddie said, we're not really that important anymore."

Rosalind's lips press together in a thin, disapproving line.

"And what will you do, when you've left your people behind? When you're mortal and human yourselves? Look at yourselves, America, Canada, is this world truly the one you want to spend the rest of your days in?"

For the first time since she stormed into the residence, a hint of worry shows in Rosalind's words.

"If you step down from being a representative, and you get hurt or die, you won't come back! Do you really want to spend your lives together like that? Please, if you must abdicate, wait for better times."

"I can't," Amelia says. Madeleine rises from beside her and their hands link again. "I can't, I'm sorry. I can't keep watching all of this happen."

Green eyes flash. Rosalind steps forwards, and Madeleine's hold tightens.

"You're a coward, America," she says. "Do you think no one else is suffering the way you are too? Do you think you two are the only ones who have ever felt this way about our roles? We don't have a choice!"

"But you do!" Amelia bites out, and Madeleine lets go to hold Rosalind back. "You always have a choice! We're not forced to be representatives, Rosalind! We can refuse to bear witness and we can _leave_! Humanity doesn't need us to survive, they don't need to torture us as a symbol of their conquests, we don't need to live our lives like this!"

"So you would rather die as a mortal, as someone insignificant and powerless?" Rosalind retorts. "As representatives, we are safe, at least from our own–"

"Oh, that is bullshit and you know it!" Amelia snaps. "Look me in the eye and tell me you've been treated well as a representative, Rosalind. Tell me they didn't belittle your status and treat you like something to be coddled and ignored. We are not human, we cannot fight against our bosses, and they _know_ that."

"You–"

"Enough already!"

Rosalind crosses her arms and huffs, and Amelia turns to Madeleine. Her polite, calm demeanour has broken. Her gaze is chillingly upset.

"It doesn't matter if it's right, or if everyone should abdicate their roles," she says, a searing anger in her words. "This is Amelia's choice and my choice. You have no say in it, Rosalind, and you cannot change our minds."

Rosalind regards them both, a scowl on her face. Green eyes glimmer. Her mouth falls into a resolved frown, and her shoulders slump.

"Fine," she says at last, turning on her heel and making for the front door. "At least tell Marianne before you vanish off the face of the Earth."

The door slams, and the house is silent. Amelia sits back down on the couch and lets out a slow breath. Madeleine's eyes fall shut.

"I'm gonna make dinner," she says, and moves for the kitchen.

Warm hands seize her wrist. She turns and meets teary blue eyes.

"I love you," Amelia whispers.

Madeleine kneels down before her, and takes warm hands in her own. Their foreheads touch.

"I love you, too."

They don't need anyone else's approval, not in this life.

But they do need a witness.

Of all the personifications, Chunyan is the one who confuses most humans. Sometimes, she looks even younger than Amelia, and people find it hard to believe such an ancient country has such a youthful representative.

But Amelia and Madeleine both share many of Chunyan's children, and all the personifications know that if anyone has seen the best and worst of humanity, it would be her.

"Have you done this before?" Madeleine asks, as they make their way down the Canadian side of the Detroit River.

Chunyan hums in a cheerfully childish manner, before replying, "A few dozen times, but I don't remember them anymore."

"Is that a side effect of abdicating?" Amelia queries.

Chunyan shrugs. "Personifications shouldn't live as long as I have. Our people rewrite our histories, and as they forget the truth, so will we."

"Have you ever considered abdication yourself?"

"All the time," Chunyan says idly, like it's trivial. "Humans are cruel, life is difficult, but they try to do better, even if it's not at all the outcome."

"Do you think we're cowards, then?" Amelia asks, her tone unaccusing "For giving up?"

Chunyan laughs. It sounds like the laugh of a grandmother.

"We are not human, no, but we are close to it. We feel pain, and love, and anger, just as humans do. And like them, we cannot bear everything. Sometimes you must accept you are not meant for this role."

Neither Amelia nor Madeleine reply. Chunyan stops along the river.

"Here, feels like a good place," she says, and turns to face them. "You each have your Signifiers?"

Amelia and Madeleine hold out their left hands. The simple bands on their ring fingers are adorned with markings and older writings. They are symbolic proof of their status as representatives.

Chunyan nods approvingly.

"Take them off. Amelia, hold yours in your right hand, Madeleine, you hold it in your left."

They do as she says. Chunyan takes their free hands in each of her own and looks at them.

"Hold each other's hands, with the rings."

Cold touches warm, and the rings clink between their palms.

Chunyan nods, and her eyes turn to the heavens. Amelia and Madeleine turn to each other. Their hold tightens.

"I, Chunyan Wang, representative of the People's Republic of China, am here to bear witness to the descension of Amelia Jones, representative of the United States of America, and Madeleine Williams, representative of Canada."

Chunyan's hands grow cold in Amelia's hold, and from the quick glance Madeleine gives, it does to her as well. The nation's head returns to the Earth and she turns to Amelia.

"Amelia," she prompts.

Amelia breathes in.

"I, Amelia Jones, hereby abdicate from my position as representative of the United States of America. I do so if my own free will, without coercion, and with full discretion of all consequences."

Something kicks her in the chest, and she gasps, leaning forwards. The Earth recedes from her body, the murmur of her children falling quiet, the feeling of Floridian heat and Alaskan chill evening out into the Windsor summer around them, and she is ever aware of how cold Madeleine's hands are.

"Do not let go, either of you," Chunyan's voice is calm. "It's okay. You're descending. Madeleine, it's your turn."

"Right." Madeleine squeezes her hand. "I, Madeleine Williams, hereby abdicate from my position as representative of Canada. I do so of my own free will, without coercion, and with full discretion of all consequences."

The words are spoken, and Madeleine drops to the ground, heaving for breath. Their intertwined hands shake, only Chunyan's inhuman strength keeps them together.

"Do you, Amelia Jones and Madeleine Williams, have anything you would wish to retain upon your complete descension into mortality?"

Slowly, gradually, they stand together.

"Our love for everyone," Amelia says.

"And our memories of this life," finishes Madeleine.

Chunyan nods.

"It shall be done."

Violet meet blue.

Chunyan breathes out, and the weights in her hands vanish.

Twin rings clatter onto the pavement.

She is alone.

Chunyan kneels down before the bands of silver, and picks them into her hands. The markings have been struck through. She stands, and looks up to the skies. The sun is set, and pinpricks of light dot the deepening blue.

"May the stars ever light your paths, Amelia, Madeleine," whispers Chunyan.

And she continues down the riverside.

 

Amelia likes to travel. She likes to see different parts of the world, and she has a real knack for languages, which is a good skill for the daughter of an American diplomat.

Sometimes, it feels like she's been to those places already, and she's just checking in on an old friend. Even the most foreign of places feels welcoming to her.

She doesn't consider Canada a foreign country, though. Maybe it's pretty damn similar in terms of big cities and smaller towns and acres and acres of rural fields. Maybe it's because Canada speaks English too (sometimes it sounds funny to her, but other times she can't tell the difference), or because their French reminds her of trips to Louisiana, or just because they're so alike.

But, whenever she travels there, it's the place she feels most at home besides her own. And at the same time, it feels like something is missing, too.

It takes nineteen years of her life to figure out what's missing. Or rather, _who_ is missing.

She takes an extra year to start college, and chooses to study in Canada. If prompted, she'll laugh and say it's because she can start her first year legally capable of drinking in Ontario.

But on that first day of orientation, when she's awkwardly mingling with a bunch of other new students, her eyes meet with someone from across the room, and her love for the world, and Canada in particular, makes sense.

The girl approaches her first, strawberry blonde hair tied in pigtails that somehow complement her face rather than look childish. Violet eyes are alight with tears, and Amelia wonders how she didn't realise sooner.

"Hello," the girl says politely, her voice choked up already. "I'm Madeleine."

"I know."

Their hands link. They're equally warm.

A tear falls.

"Welcome back, Amelia."

Fingers interlace.

"It's good to see you again, Maddie."

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of love for Nyo!China. She looks cutesy and smol but just slightly... off. I like to imagine a lot of the female reps have that sort of not-quite-human, subtly dangerous aura about them.
> 
> this could probably be a deeper fic but i'm tired


End file.
